Stepped on this long-ago deceased mouse’s lower jaw in my bathroom this morning. No idea how it got there. Didn’t even know what it was at first. It was so small I thought it was a claw. (That’s a square of toilet paper it’s resting on.)
To paraphrase Messrs. Cleese and Palin, it is an ex-mouse. It is no more. It has ceased to be. It is bereft of life. It is pining for the fjords.
Mouse choppers
